


Unfamiliar

by Destina



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-11
Updated: 2011-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The definition of happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfamiliar

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to LJ in 2011.

Danny doesn't talk much when he's in the ocean. 

Steve expected him to, and he was braced for impact the first time they hit the surf together, Danny with his ridiculous yellow board like something he bought off Gidget at a thrift shop. True to form, Danny had plenty to say up until the edge of the water -- but the moment his toes touched the heavy wet sand, he went quiet. It's like the ocean wraps around Danny's words and carries them away on the waves, which Steve knows is a temporary condition, but in that silence, Danny's grin burns brighter. When Steve doesn't have to think past Danny's endless stream of brain-to-mouth, or rise to meet the challenge of giving as good as he gets, he can spend his time watching Danny's balance on the board, appreciating his unexpectedly graceful form. 

It's not a selfless pursuit, watching Danny. They're partners, and it's what Steve's supposed to do, sure, but it's beyond that now. It's knowing Danny, every tell in the way his muscles tense, every thought that flies across his expression and is left unspoken. Danny returns the favor sometimes, his sharp eyes catching everything, and Steve never turns away from it. He likes being known. It's a luxury he's always avoided, until now. 

Steve feels free in the water, like it's where he was born to be, and sometimes -- when the sky is turning pale yellow at the edges as the sun wakes in the morning, and the world beneath is blue and quiet -- he thinks maybe Danny gets that, too. The sea is something they share now, a part of their weekend routine, when Danny's not with Grace, or they're not working. They surf, and they grill steaks out by the water, and sometimes Danny's words come back to him then, always in the form of sly jokes about Steve's culinary abilities, and never another word about how much Danny used to hate the ocean. 

They talk, and then they touch, and then there's silence again, of a different kind. 

Later, they move to Steve's bed, with its meticulously clean sheets and soft pillows that Danny takes great delight in tossing overboard. Danny leaves a bottle of beer on the bedside table when he pushes Steve down into the comforter. Now Steve can give Danny's body his full attention, something he's been waiting to do all day.

Back arched, Steve splits his focus: the condensation sliding down the beer bottle's dark glass, and Danny's fingertips pressed into the grooves of his hips; the fan turning lazy circles over the bed, and Danny's hot wet mouth on his cock; the chunky blocks of moonlight cutting over the ceiling, and Danny's skin under Steve's hands, smooth sleek muscles, warm strength. Even when Steve tries to delay coming, it's still over too soon, because nothing so good lasts forever. He kisses Danny's parted lips, bites gently at his skin, until they can start all over again. 

After midnight, Danny brings two bananas, two pieces of toast slathered with peanut butter, and one slice of cheddar cheese to bed, with a cold beer tucked under each elbow. 

"This?" Steve says, sliding the beer out and taking a banana. "This is what you bring me as a post-coital offering?"

"I will have you know, Commander McGarrett, that this carefully planned snack was designed to help you keep your strength up over the many long hours to come." Danny puts his fingers in his mouth, slowly stripping off all traces of peanut butter, until Steve takes hold of Danny's wrist. He moves Danny's fingers into his own mouth while Danny watches with dark eyes, the current snapping hot between them. 

When all he can taste is the salt-tang of Danny's skin, he lets him go, and Danny leans in to kiss him, damp fingers sliding down Steve's bare back. 

Steve eats peanut butter toast and bites of cheese with Danny's head pillowed on his thigh, while Danny talks about the annoyance of sand in his chest hair, and the way only the tops of his shoulders and his left ear ever sunburn, and how surfboard wax-related rash is even worse than carpet rash, and all the other coded ways Danny says he loves it on this island, loves being with Steve. He listens, and runs his hands through Danny’s hair, and closes his eyes for a moment. 

Nothing this good comes easy to Steve. First there was his father's murder, and before that, all the complications of work and duty, and never being sure he was wanted at home. When he needed to shift his sense of duty, there was his team, and all the mess they managed to get themselves into even as they formed themselves into an inseparable family. 

The summer had been hell on earth, and without those bonds, none of them could have come through. 

And finally, when all else was cleared away, there was just this, peanut butter and beer with Danno at 2AM, and a discourse on the evils of flip flops - which, Danny is very sure, are the torture instruments of an unkind god. 

It takes Steve a minute to place the strange, full feeling in his chest, and then he realizes that finally, here with Danny, he's...

...happy. 

 

end


End file.
